I. br br They let me go br at night, minus my timepiece, lighter, br personal effects. The air is always shaking br the same jars of safety pins: cicadas. br Song is my recidivism: always br I'm abandoning the road to stand br (unwatched, unseconded) in someone's br field. The stars (that are not mine) br br tick fitfully, they always have br appointments. Punctual, six-sharp, br they are David's; they have lodged in his br death tent, have stuck in his mud sleep. Bad luck br br leaves me a loan: no company, no katy- br did or promissory br note or night br can last. br The air br loses its nerve, br the old saw its eyeteeth and I br my words—my alwaysing and my. br br II. br br In hush the repossessors reach br the edges of the field. They pass br br for shadows, sheep of ambush, animals of br permanence. They turn a black beyond returning br br and they haunt the sleepless. I don't count, br who cannot earn my keep.